I'd like to tell y'all a story
About a friend of mine
Who liked to drink good whiskey, oh Lord
And have a real good time
His woman, you know she left him
And stole that boy's brand new car
And ran out of town with a guitar picker
Said he gonna be a superstar
Sure you are
 [bad word] 
You can't alway [bad word] your woman
You can't always [bad word] your best friend
Beware of the ones that you need y'all
'Cause those might be the ones that do you in

Don't talk no stuff to no slicker
Don't tell your feelings to your friend
Don't tell your woman that you love her, because
That's when your trouble begins
There are many ladies here among us
That'll stab you in the back when you ain't around
There are many, so many of your very best friends
That'll kick you in the head when you are down
Yes they will
 [bad word] 

Don't you backtalk the police
'Cause its his job to put you in the jail
They'll lock you up, boy and throw away the key
And your best friend won't even go your bail
There are many slickers here among us
That are all dressed up in suits and ties
But don't you show your pain, Lord in front of them
'Cause if you do you kiss yourself goodbye, alright